


five times touched

by blurrywrote



Category: Dr. STONE (Manga)
Genre: F/M, cue cascada's everytime we touch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 07:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23347729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurrywrote/pseuds/blurrywrote
Summary: this is another drabble i made in my rp blog and i ended up really liking it! as the title suggests, that is the prompt. there's a little mention of what happened in the last work i posted, foundhere!
Relationships: Ishigami Senkuu/Kohaku
Comments: 8
Kudos: 92





	five times touched

* * *

She points at the stars like landmarks on a map. She’s always had a sharp eye but her imagination could be better, that’s where her mom or Ruri would come in when they guide her hand to connect the dots and draw a picture. She can never see what they see though. Senku doesn’t guide her the way her mom or sister did, but he gives her directions, numbers, tips from a lost man at sea. The constellations are very much a map, markings in the sky instead of the earth. He’s pointing at one and she has to lean in, their shoulders brush and through the fabric she feels more than listens: she knew stars vibrated before he even told her.

He makes the imprint on the dirt. “Those make up Hercules.”  


She tilts her head. “Looks like a frog.”

* * *

Scars mark the skin like ink on paper. They’re not at all poetic, not many have an interesting story. Kohaku doesn’t mind that she has as much as the men in the village, her skin is as tough as the rest of her, she forgets about them most of the time and no one ever says anything. Except this time where she’s sitting near the stream and Senku is digging through the sand again until something else catches his eye. When he tells her to lift her foot a little she doesn’t even question it, but her skin tingles where his fingers touch around her ankle. His hand is cold from the water but it feels nice in this heat.

The nasty scar under her foot, she remembers everything else _but_ that stubborn cut when it happened. The skin there is still red, her fault for not taking better care of it. She recalls that some of the stars take on a red hue but again: scars are not poetic, they just _are_.

He thought she was bleeding but he lets go as soon as she says it’s an old wound. And here, with the distance he makes it leaves her colder as the massive empty space between stars. But that’s not poetic either, distance just _is_.

* * *

The stamina of a scientist is a sad one. She wants to confront him about it, she already offered to give him some lessons and boost a little more endurance into him, have her teach him something for a change. But there’s much to do, there’s never really a chance. Kohaku believes though, ocean deep of her faith, that they can have all the time in the world once they get it back. As fast paced as she is, Kohaku can wait for this.

And holding his hand during a steep climb isn’t so bad either. If only he didn’t get so breathless, maybe he could enjoy it. Or she _hopes_ that he could… It’s a nice thought, she’s been having a lot of those.

* * *

Spring came in form of a boy with unwavering conviction. When her mother died, Ruri got sick not too later after and Kohaku has been battling with Winter ever since. Senku reminds her of Spring, of Hope and Newness, to the very tips of his hair. His odd spiky hair, which must have currents of electricity running through it daily for it to stick up so much. Maybe that’s proof of how much of his brain he uses, she remembers him saying the brain has currents of its own before she got lost in further explanation. She wonders if she were to touch his hair would it shock her, if brushing her fingers through it would have the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end? Kohaku conducts her own experiment then, purely scientific.

The chance comes soon enough where her approach is natural and the lack of space between them is warm and comfortable, two stars in orbit. Her thumb is brushing his sideburns before either puts a word in. It’s not the oddest thing they’ve done, or that she has done she should say. Nothing sparks on her hand but something similar to that feeling lights her nerves when his thumb grazes her cheek. Endorphins, she remembers that word.

Senku pinches strands of soft sun between his thumb and index, because he has no idea what she’s up to and this is only a reflex. But her hands are being gentle and her eyes hold no mischief, only calm waters. After an earthly few seconds he asks what she’s up to and she responds with, “Testing the currents” because, of course, what else could she be doing? Her head tilts and his hand presses more of her face, she thinks that she’s leaning more than he’s moving but his fingers twitch behind her ear in a way that relaxes her shoulders.

Eye contact is suddenly making the air too warm and her insides tingle. Huh. Kohaku isn’t sure where to take it from there but she doesn’t get the chance to find out when footsteps and voices are close by, and they’ve already slid away when their friends are in view. Kohaku leans against a wall as she twirls a piece of her hair with her fingers where his touch lingers. The experiment raised further questions, but that’s how science works.

* * *

His skin is much softer than hers. It’s a fact that never bothered her, she never held a vain bone in her body to begin with and it doesn’t make her self conscious. She’s never been more aware of another person, it shocks her to realize, down to his scent. Is it weird that she likes how he smells? Other than clean and fresh, there’s another factor that’s specifically _Senku_. It makes her want to rub her face against his neck. She refrains from doing so, but the idea is there.

The idea is especially loud when leaning on his side, slumped to the ground like every other overworked person in the area. The pair share a blanket made from Yuzuriha, Suika is dozing on Senku’s other side, and the snores of their friends lift in the air. Under the cover, the back of Kohaku’s hand touches the boy’s next to her. She thinks she’s the only one left awake, she counts the seconds between Senku’s inhales and exhales. Her fingers move, it’d be so easy to hold his hand right now. She jumps when she feels his knuckles bump with hers, their fingers lock together and it’s her own heartbeat she’s counting now as she can’t hear anything else.

Apparently he’s a mind reader because he can hear her thinking, he mutters to ask what she’s up to and she whispers, “Testing the currents” because the waters here are still unknown but exciting. When he calls her weird and tells her to go to sleep, Kohaku smiles in the dark. She is ten billion percent a weirdo, she must be, nothing else can explain _whatever this is_. No use pondering over it all night. Kohaku rests her head on Senku’s shoulder and it’s not the most comfortable spot but that’s okay, she breathes in and the rest of the world fades until it’s just him, his scent, his soft skin against her scarred one, and the stars overhead.


End file.
